


Tea and Honey

by courtts



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: F/F, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-01 23:30:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10203305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courtts/pseuds/courtts
Summary: L'Arachel makes an outrageous proposal at tea time, and Eirika's curiosity gets the best of her.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [FE Rarepair Week](https://ferarepair-week2k17.tumblr.com/)

The hardest part about navigating life post-war, Eirika thinks, is learning how to be a lady again.

Just two short months ago, Eirika would have been using her spare time to further hone her skills with the blade or discuss battle strategies she never truly grasped in the first place. Now, in between lengthy meetings with Renais’ advisors and diplomats alike, she finds herself attending tea parties in attire much too refined for her taste, engaging in conversations too trivial to concern her, but not without the company that truly matters.

“Now my dear Eirika, I believe that we can both say, with absolute confidence, that this is a disgrace.” L’Arachel brings a porcelain teacup to her lips, sipping tea with a few extra spoonfuls of honey than necessary. “The Theocracy of Rausten undeniably has the freshest seafood in all of Magvel. For your brother to side with that prickly prince and assert that Frelia’s seafood is superior… why, that’s something I simply cannot stand for.”

Eirika takes a sip of her own tea, using the drink to shield the grimace forming on her own face. “Believe me, my brother most certainly did _not_ side with Prince Innes,” she says.

L’Arachel raises an eyebrow. “He favored Frelia over my home of Rausten, did he not?” she asks, lightly shaking her head, “I see no difference.”

Eirika’s tea dates with L’Arachel usually consist of one-sided banter about the most diverse of topics, ranging from the best flowers to plant outside the restored Renais Castle to the appropriate length for Dozla’s beard. And with the Dark Stone no longer posing a threat to the Continent of Magvel, she is more than happy to oblige in light-hearted talks of this nature.

The topic of conversation soon turns to Ephraim and Innes, the princes in question from earlier, and their potential suitors. L’Arachel rants about how her wedding day will be much more grandiose, much more of a spectacle than either of theirs could ever dream to be. Eirika finds herself absentmindedly nodding along, partially because neither of them have any suitors to call their own, and partially because she’s heard the same schtick tenfold now.

By this point in time, Eirika is confident she has learned every facet of L’Arachel’s life there is to know. She knows of L’Arachel’s family’s legacy, and how she wishes to uphold her parents’ values by vanquishing all that is dark and evil from this world. She knows that L’Arachel likes her tea extra sweet, she has an aversion to pegasi after a shared flight gone wrong, and that she is surprisingly adept at formal dance, despite her clumsy nature on the battlefield.

Eirika also knows that L’Arachel is not afraid to speak whatever comes to mind, discussing topics that would make the average acquaintance more uncomfortable than they’d like.

L’Arachel’s eyes grow wide mid-tirade. “Eirika, you don’t… you don’t think they’ve already _kissed_ these women of theirs, do you?”

It’s not a scandalous subject by any means--not for people hailing from Eirika’s homeland of Renais, at least--but Eirika finds herself growing red at L’Arachel’s conjecture. She tells herself it wasn’t because she accidentally witnessed her brother and her dearest childhood friend, lipsed locked, through a crack in his bedroom door. Then again, she’s not fooling herself either.

“I wouldn’t know,” Eirika says, the tips of her ears starting to burn, “And even if I did, my brother and I still have our own boundaries.”

“You’ve never thought of asking him?” L’Arachel asks, “Whether it lived up to his expectations? How it felt?” She pauses before adding, “If he liked it?”

Eirika grows even redder. “L-L’Arachel!” she stammers. She thought she had learned everything there was to know about the princess of Rausten, but even she didn’t expect something this… forward to come out of her mouth.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never wondered what it feels like to have another’s lips on your own, have you? Or to hold someone dearly, and close in your arms?” L’Arachel looks at Eirika as if she’s as dense as the court’s fool.

“Well of course I have,” Eirika says, a little more defensively than she’d like, “But this is hardly an appropriate conversation to be having over casual tea.” She looks away, not wanting to meet L’Arachel’s judging gaze. “Why are you even bringing this up to begin with?”

Eirika turns her eyes back to L’Arachel’s, and she sees a tinge of pink begin to make its way onto L’Arachel’s face, as well. A pit begins to grow in Eirika’s stomach, and she starts to regret having asked in the first place.

L’Arachel laughs nervously. “Oh, Eirika, it’s funny you bring that up,” she says, eyes trailing to the shut door of the drawing room they’re currently conversing in. She hesitates before continuing, “There indeed _is_ a motive behind my words.”

Eirika raises an eyebrow, ever so slightly. “So? What is it?”

The words lie on the tip of L’Arachel’s tongue for what seem like an eternity. With every passing second, Eirika feels the pit in her stomach grow into something far more horrendous.

“Dearest Eirika,” L’Arachel says, voice low, drawing out her words, “Would you be interested in said kissing? Here and now, with me?”

Eirika nearly knocks over the entire tea set from the drawing room table.

“What?!” she exclaims. The proposition is outrageous, preposterous, and well, completely unexpected.

“I’ve given it a great deal of thought,” L’Arachel says, eyes fixed on Eirika’s, “And you are the most suitable candidate to take my first kiss. In fact, there isn’t a single person I’d rather have it be with.”

If Eirika’s face was hot before, it now feels like it’s on fire. “M-Me?” she stammers, “What about, I don’t know, your future husband?”

“Nonsense,” L’Arachel says, shaking her head, “It can only be you, Eirika. You’re among my closest confidants, my greatest inspirations, and you’re… my dearest friend.” She clears her throat before continuing. “If you seek proof of my words, look to the ruby around your neck.”

Eirika brings a hand up to her chest, caressing the brilliant ruby pendant in between her fingers. The jewel had been an heirloom in the Rausten royal family for generations, and it now lies in her possession: a true symbol of friendship between nations--and them.

“L’Arachel, I…”

“I understand if you would rather not,” L’Arachel says, “It was nothing but wishful thinking on my part.” She hangs her head and sighs before looking to Eirika once again. “Let’s move the conversation to a more suitable subject, now shall we?”

The prudent thing to do, Eirika’s mind tells her, would be to swiftly dismiss the topic and resume their regular chatter about the ups and downs of their everyday lives, pretending that the discussion never happened in the first place. Eirika would let L’Arachel down gently and indirectly, sparing herself from a potentially embarrassing situation. She would also lose trust from a beloved friend at the same time.

Eirika’s fingers are still holding the Raustenian jewel around her neck, delicately tracing the ruby’s many ridges. She looks to L’Arachel, and imagines someone else--a faceless man, suave and charming--holding up her chin and forcefully pressing his lips to hers, confidently and aggressively. Then she imagines someone like that man in possession of the jewel around her neck. It feels wrong, like something L’Arachel would never wish for, let alone actively pursue, like she was doing now.

And in a sudden moment of clarity, Eirika realizes she doesn’t want that, either.

In direct defiance of her mind’s advice, Eirika rises from her seat, her body--and heart--taking complete control over her actions. As she slowly makes her way to L’Arachel’s seat on the other side of the table, she can’t help but feel that this all seems so surreal. She had always thought her first kiss would go to a stuffy nobleman from a neighboring kingdom, or a forbidden romance with one of the royal knights, especially when she was younger and more naive. What surprises Eirika the most, however, is that she’s putting up no opposition to this new direction her body has decided to take her in.

“Eirika? Where are you going?” L’Arachel calls.

Eirika doesn’t reply. Instead, she draws on her secret memories of Ephraim and Tana in a lover’s embrace. She tentatively lifts a leg to the other side of L’Arachel’s body and lowers herself so that she’s straddling her in her chair. Eirika places her hands on L’Arachel’s shoulders and wonders what her brother would say if he found her in a position as precarious as this.

With their faces mere inches away from one another, Eirika can admire the features of L’Arachel she had never really noticed up close. L’Arachel’s hair shines like the sun; Eirika grabs a stray lock framing her face, and it feels as silky as it looks. L’Arachel’s eyes are an even more vibrant hue of gold than her hair, and Eirika finds herself mesmerized when she gazes into them this close up. L’Arachel’s skin is smooth and soft to the touch, and her lips look just as soft and supple… and dangerously close to Eirika’s own.

“Eirika, I don’t know what kind of trickery you’re trying to pull on me, but I’m not amused in the slightest.”

Despite her words, L’Arachel puts up no resistance to Eirika’s advances--her hands have made their way around Eirika’s hips. It gives Eirika just the push of resolve she needs to follow through with her impulsive actions.

“It’s not trickery in the slightest,” she says, smiling lightly. She takes another example from her brother and raises a hand to L’Arachel’s cheek, caressing it softly. She may not have the experience that Ephraim has, but she certainly has enough intuition to know that it’s the next step. “Just a few moments ago, you told me you wanted your first kiss to go to me--” Eirika pauses, “--here and now, didn’t you?”

L’Arachel purses her lips. “I… I did.”

Eirika smiles. “And I feel the same way,” she says, ”I’d like my first kiss to go to you as well.”

L’Arachel gasps and her jaw goes slack for a short moment. Eirika is just as surprised at L’Arachel’s reaction as she is. And in the most inopportune of times possible, Eirika’s mind completely blanks. She can’t think of anymore gestures of comfort or words of reassurance. The only action she can think of next is the only one that truly matters in the end.

_Here goes nothing_ , Eirika thinks. She shuts her eyes tight and closes what little distance remains between them. She presses her lips to L’Arachel’s and they’re even softer than they appear. They’re warm, welcoming, and feel just right against her own. Instead of making the kiss a quick peck like she intended it to be, Eirika lets her lips linger on L’Arachel’s for a couple seconds more, taking in the thrill that comes with an occasion as momentous as this.

When Eirika pulls away, she can taste the remnants of tea and honey on her lips. She puts a hand to her lips, trying to recreate the feeling in vain, and when she looks up, L’Arachel is doing the same.

“As pleasant as that was, I can’t believe you would lie to me,” she says.

Eirika’s jaw drops. “Wh-what are you talking about?!”

“There’s simply no way that could’ve been your first kiss,” L’Arachel says plainly, “Not when it made me so... “ her face turns an embarrassingly deep shade of crimson, “...so hot and bothered as it did.”

“You’re imagining things, plain and simple,” Eirika says. Her face is just as on fire as L’Arachel’s. “It _was_ my first, and I can tell you with certainty because it’s gotten me even more worked up than you are.”

“I highly doubt that,” L’Arachel says. “ _I_ was the one more worked up by our little kiss, and I’ll treat you with my flawless reasoning behind it.” Her words put Eirika somewhat at ease, as they slip into their familiar patterns of one-sided chatter.

Still, Eirika would rather not listen to said banter at all. “Do we really need to discuss this? _Now_?” she asks.

“Yes, we do,” L’Arachel replies, voice still shaky. “I need a moment to compose my thoughts, but the main gist is that the whole ordeal makes me want to try it again. It makes me want to kiss you again, and again, and again.”

L’Arachel half-glares at Eirika with blazing cheeks and hungry eyes. They’re honest, demanding, and leave Eirika wanting more.

Her voice trembles as she looks back at L’Arachel with the same expression. “Nothing’s stopping you from a second one, you know,” she says.

“Is that an invitation?” L’Arachel asks.

Eirika hesitates, then answers, “It very well may be.”

Not even seconds later, L’Arachel crashes their lips together in their second, but definitely not their final kiss of the day. Eirika couldn’t have expected, nor did she wish for any other response.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://courtto.tumblr.com/)


End file.
